


Never Have I Ever II, or Sam Wilson FINALLY Learns His Lesson

by LizzieHarker



Series: A Comedy of Arrows [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel
Genre: A Comedy of Arrows, Arrowsverse, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Comedy, Drinking Games, Fluff and Humor, Gen, JARVIS - Freeform, M/M, Sam Wilson has so many regrets, Sex Talk, Strip Tease, The Return of Never Have I Ever, and not enough alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieHarker/pseuds/LizzieHarker
Summary: “Truth or Dare Jenga,” Nat answered, rubbing her hands in glee. “I’ve written a truth or dare question on each of the blocks in the tower. You pull one, do what it says, and it set it on top. If you topple the tower, you lose.”“Easy enough,” Bucky said, settling in beside Steve.Steve arched a brow. “Why do I feel like this is gonna get real weird, real fast?”Natasha and Clint smirked. “That means you’re going first, Steve,” Clint said. “Go get ‘em, Cap.”Steve leaned over and tapped one block out of the stack, immediately blushing. “Truth: Tell us about the first time you had sex,” he read.Sam ran a hand over his face. “We haven’t even started drinking yet.”





	Never Have I Ever II, or Sam Wilson FINALLY Learns His Lesson

Bucky and Steve had traded looks when they’d walked through the door into Sam’s warm, inviting apartment, and he and Nat announced they’d be playing Truth or Dare Jenga. Bucky didn’t know what Jenga was, but any game of Truth or Dare between him and Steve . . .ended in ways Sam wanted no part in, guaranteed. Natasha set the customary shots on the table in Sam’s living room, along with a bottle of tequila, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of Everclear. Neither Steve or Bucky could actually _get_ drunk, but the Everclear gave them a nice buzz, however brief. Natalia, always so thoughtful. What Bucky hadn’t expected was the tower of wooden blocks in the center of the table.

Clint, already sprawled out on the couch, lifted his hand in greeting and painstakingly got up to sprawl across the chair to Nat’s left. 

“Ready for round two, Barton?” Bucky asked, taking the seat on Nat’s right. Honestly, after the first so-called Game Night, none of them thought Sam would want a repeat event, but here they were, in Sam’s nice, tidy, well lit home, about to get drunk, loud, and drop some TMI.

A lazy smirk spread across Clint’s face. The last game had some certainly unexpected revelations. “You got no idea, Barnes.”

“Hey, boys,” Natasha said. “No threesomes this time.”

“Killjoy,” Steve muttered, cuddling up to Bucky. Bucky scratched at Steve’s beard. God, he loved Steve with facial hair. Natasha snorted. Clint’s eyes went wide. Oh yeah. Captain America casually proposing a sexcapade wasn’t something easily forgotten. Steve ignored them both. “Where’s Sam?”

“Kitchen!” Sam called. “Gimme a hand with the snacks, would ya?”

Steve promptly disappeared to lend Sam a hand. Bucky looked after him fondly. “I love that man.”

Clint and Natasha groaned, rolling their eyes. “We know.”

Steve and Sam emerged from the kitchen, arms filled with bowls and plates. Chips, popcorn, a stack of wings, some of those little savory pastry things, and all of it smelled freakin’ delicious. Steve set his portion down and promptly swept Bucky into his arms, kissing him soft and sweet. Obviously, he’d heard the eye rolling. Once he let go, he shot Clint and Nat a look. “Deal with it,” he said, taking the seat to Bucky’s right. “I’m surprised you wanted to host another game night, Sam,” Steve continued, turning to face him.

“So am I, man. But it’s been a hellava year, and we need to get together to do something other than Avenging since you retired. Not that I Avenge all that much anyway, but we need, you know, healthier group activities.”

Bucky snatched a pastry from the dish. “So what are we playing again?”

“Truth or Dare Jenga,” Nat answered, rubbing her hands in glee. “I’ve written a truth or dare question on each of the blocks in the tower. You pull one, do what it says, and it set it on top. If you topple the tower, you lose.”

“Easy enough,” Bucky said, settling in beside Steve.

Steve arched a brow. “Why do I feel like this is gonna get real weird, real fast?”

Natasha and Clint smirked. “That means you’re going first, Steve,” Clint said. “Go get ‘em, Cap.”

Steve leaned over and tapped one block out of the stack, immediately blushing. “Truth: Tell us about the first time you had sex,” he read.

Sam ran a hand over his face. “We haven’t even started drinking yet.”

“I have a question,” Steve said, turning to Nat. “What are we defining sex as? Are we talking just first sexual act, like my first hand job or blowjob, or are we specifically referring to intercourse?”

“Captain America just said intercourse,” Clint chuckled, ribbing Nat.

Steve tilted his head. “You’re right. I meant are we talking about fucking? Honestly, all my first stories are embarrassing, so you’re getting something good either way.”

Sam shook his head and took a shot. “Nope. Not ready for this one.”

“Just take the bottle,” Natasha said, pushing it toward him. “Whatever you want, Steve.” She smirked, taking a shot of her own. “I’m sure you’ll make it good for us.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Well, surprising absolutely no one in the history of America, Bucky was my first . . .everything.” He waved a hand, shrugging with one shoulder.

“What? No,” Clint said, grabbing a handful of chips.

Steve threw a grape at him; Clint caught it in his mouth. Beside him, Bucky sucked at his teeth, watching Steve from the corner of his eye. If this was the story he thought it was . . .

“Buck and I were, what, eighteen, when we finally decided to try it?”

“There about,” Bucky answered. Yup, that’s where they were going.

“We’d gotten together the year before, but with me being sick so much, Buck didn’t wanna go all the way. Thought I’d die or something.”

“Pal, kissing you too much made you all wheezy.”

“Shut up, Bucky. Anyway, we finally decided to go for it, I’d been feeling well for weeks, and we’d just moved into an apartment of our own. The only thing we could afford was this tiny, worn out two-room thing on the top floor of a ramshackle building. And of course the fucking elevator didn’t work. But we managed—“

“I carried you,” Bucky interrupted.

“But we managed, and we moved in. There was one murphy bed that squeaked like hell, our threadbare couch we got from my ma’s place, a rickety table we found on the street, and basically nothing else but hey, it was ours. Buck’s parents thought he was just looking out for me when he said we were getting a place together,” Steve said, a small smile on his face.

Yeah, Bucky’s _ma_ had thought he was looking after his best friend; his pa, not so much.

“We grew up in a pretty gay neighborhood, so it’s not like we didn’t know what we were doing.”

“We didn’t know what we were doing.”

Steve glared at Bucky. “My block. My story. Shut up or I’ll sit on you.”

“You still think that’s punishment?”

Steve reached out and twisted one of Bucky’s nipples. Buck collapsed his chest, returning the glare. “Ow, what the fuck, Steve?”

“I said shut up.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and scooted closer to Natasha. Everyone thought Steve naive and sweet, all mild mannered aw-shucks and apple pie, but fuck no, Steve Rogers had always been a little shit and always would be. It was part of his charm.

“So we have our first night in our place. We celebrate, of course. I made a terrible dinner that Bucky choked down because he’s a good boyfriend and then we moved on to kissing because we’re teenagers and what else were we gonna do, alone in our apartment?”

Natasha picked up a pastry. “So far, not much different from now.”

“Hush, Nat. You’re gonna make him mad,” Clint fake whispered.

“We’ve gotten past the awkward stripping and seeing each other naked bit, and it’s my idea that we should try actually fucking. Bucky is a solid ‘no’ on that front, but I’m a persuasive son of a bitch.”

“Your mother was a saint, and she totally knew we were queer,” Bucky said.

Steve flushed, horrified. “She did not.”

“Oh, yes she did. Knew we were gay for each other before _we_ knew.”

“Just get on with it, please,” Sam muttered.

“Funny,” Steve answered. “That’s what he said. I’d found the jar of Vaseline we had in the first aid kit, and lemme tell you, modern lube is a gift from the gods, even if the flavored stuff is as weird as it is fascinating.”

Clint sat forward. “What’s your favorite flavor, Steve?”

Steve twisted his mouth in consideration. “I’m partial to strawberry. We tried a sampler flavored like mixed drinks a couple weeks ago,” he answered.

“You mean _cock_ tails?” Bucky quipped.

“The amaretto sour one was pretty good. I don’t understand cola flavored lube though. Why would you want it to taste like pop? It’s not even good pop.”

“Have you seen the bacon flavored kind?” Clint asked.

“That’s just wrong,” Steve said. “Anyway, we’re on the couch, and I’m doing everything I can to convince Bucky to just do it already and he’s hesitating, even though he’d already spent like an hour working me over and opening me up and whatever, so I . . .kinda just pushed him onto the cushions and did it myself.” Steve glanced at his shoes, his face turning red. “Turns out that, uh, wasn’t the best idea. It definitely hurt more than I expected, and Buck had shouted in surprise, so the next thing we know, the sweet old lady who lived next to us is knocking on our door.”

Natasha laughed, her cheeks flushed. “Oh God, do go on.”

Steve kicked at the rug. “She leaves eventually after Bucky reassures her that he’d dropped something in the kitchen and everyone’s okay, and I look down and Buck is _glaring_ at me. Suddenly, I can’t stop laughing, which makes everything hurt worse, but I keep looking at his stupid mug and his glare and the fact that he’s still inside me, and,” Steve said, trailing off into laughter.

Bucky, for his part, glared.

“I admit I’d been too hasty, try to get off him, and my knees buckle. I roll off the couch and almost hit our table, so then I’m on the floor howling until Bucky gets up and throws himself on our bed and the neighbor lady comes back to yell at me.”

“He’s failed to mentioned that he couldn’t walk properly for two days after,” Bucky adds, slugging Steve in the shoulder.

Steve leaned in and kissed the tip of Bucky’s nose. “Our second attempt was far more successful. He got me off and everything.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve set his block on top of the tower and grabbed one of the tequila shots. Sam looked like he might actually drink the whole bottle of tequila. Or ask it to marry him. What had the guy been expecting? Poor Sam; he was far too straight and levelheaded for this group and that had been the first question.

“Guess that’s me, then,” Bucky said, standing to select a block from the side and turning it over to find the message. His infamous devilish grin appeared on his face. Oh, this was gonna be fun. “Dare: Kiss all the other players,” he announced.

“Oh, hell no,” Sam said, taking another swing. “No way am I kissing you, Barnes.”

“You don’t have to kiss me. I have to kiss _you_ ,” Bucky answered, pointing a finger gun at him. “But I’m starting with Steve.”

Steve beamed, bouncing a little in his seat. Bucky straddled him, hands cupping Steve’s jaw as he leaned in. His lips brushed against Steve’s, one sweet kiss before he licked at Steve’s mouth and Steve invited him in. Steve’s fingers wound their way into Bucky’s hair, tugging lightly, and Bucky kissed him breathless, enjoying the taste of tequila and everything that was purely Steve. He refused to hold back, enjoying all the visible tongue and delicious moans Steve made.

“I’m going to have to employ a ten second time limit, James,” Natasha said, and Bucky felt her jab a finger into his ribs. 

Both Steve and Buck were flushed by the time they parted and Bucky gave Steve one last, chaste kiss before turning to Natasha. “I can still do a hell of a lot of damage in ten seconds.”

Natasha smirked when he turned to her, delicately brushing Nat’s hair back behind her ears as she stood. He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a gesture of respect and sincerity. Natasha reached up for him and Bucky knelt before her, letting her smooth his hair before she returned the kiss, equally affectionate and kind. Their history came to Bucky in bits and pieces, but they were better in this life.

Beside Natasha, Clint hurried applied the Chapstick he’d taken from his pocket, recapped it, and tossed it onto the table. Bucky cocked an eyebrow. Clint rolled his shoulders, rubbing his lips together and parting them with a pop. “Okay. I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

Chuckling, Buck moving away from Nat draped his arms over Clint’s shoulders, seating himself in Clint’s lap as close as possible. He ran his fingers across Clint’s jaw and down his chest, brushing his nose along Clint’s cheekbone. “You sure? It’s been a while.”

“I’m very sure. Wasn’t disappointed the last time,” Clint answered.

Bucky made a soft sound, continuing those gently strokes and light touches all the back up to Clint’s jaw. He smoothed the backs of his fingers against Clint’s temples, settling one hand on the back of Clint’s neck, the other against his collarbone. Clint’s breath hitched in anticipation as Bucky leaned in, lips barely meeting before Bucky turned Clint’s head and licked a stripe up the side of his face.

Clint burst into laughter, wiping his face as he pushed Bucky away. Bucky smirked. He felt 100% sure he’d pay for that later, but whatever. It’d been worth it for the look on his best bro’s face, and more so for the look on Sam’s. As an expert in all manner of kisses, there were still at least a dozen ways Buck could go, and Sam started sweating bullets as Bucky moved to stand before him. Setting a hand on each of Sam’s shoulders, Bucky let his expression go blank.

“Aw, no, man. You just licked Barton’s face. I didn’t sign up for this,” Sam protested. “Can I pass?”

“It’s not your turn, Sam,” Nat answered. “And there are no passes. James’s draw said kiss _all_ the players.”

Sam cringed. “I dunno why I expected a different answer. Alright, man, let’s get this over with.” He screwed his eyes shut and puckered his lips.

Bucky glanced back at Natasha, barely holding back a laugh, before pressing a light kiss to one of Sam’s cheeks, then the other, before he released him and resumed his seat.

Sam cracked one eye. “That’s it?”

“You want more?” Bucky asked. “I fulfilled my dare. You want another kiss, you gotta ask Stevie for permission.” He set his block on the top.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, holding tight. “No. I don’t share.”

Natasha rubbed her hands together in manic glee before slipping one of the blocks from the foundation of the tower. Bucky had little doubt she’d chosen her piece on purpose. “Dare: Do something dirty to the player two to your right.”

Steve snorted, ribbing Sam. “Good luck.”

“Baby. Nat’s other right,” Bucky said, watching for the spectacular moment when Steve realized _he_ was Natasha’s victim. 

Nat slinked over behind Steve’s chair, her slender fingers rubbing his shoulders.

“Bucky, help,” he squeaked, trying to hide his grin.

Natasha paused between him and Sam. “Sam, can I borrow the tequila for a sec? Steve, pick an arm.”

“You’re not gonna light me on fire, are you? I’ve seen those YouTube videos.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his left arm, offering it to Bucky. “Hold that for me, would ya?”

Bucky complied as Natasha slid into Steve’s lap, holding the bottle of tequila in one hand, a salt shaker and a lime wedge in the other. She set the salt shaker in Steve’s upturned palm before wiggling the rind side of the lime at him. 

“Open up, Rogers.” She set the lime between Steve’s teeth; Steve shot Bucky a sideways glance but Bucky shrugged. Natasha would be the first person to ever take a body shot off Steve, and he’d be a little jealous if he didn’t think this would be the funniest fucking thing he’d ever seen. She poured a line of salt along Steve’s arm. “Barton, gimme a shot.”

“You got it,” Clint chimed, taking the bottle out of Sam’s hand and filling one of the shot glasses before handing the tequila back. 

Sam raise the bottle in toast. “Cheers, Cap.”

Natasha gave one of her dimpled smirks, raised her shot, and overturned the whole thing onto Steve’s head. Steve let out an indignant squawk as the cold liquor ran down his face and neck. Nat caught the lime wedge and squeeze it into his hair, adding a sprinkle of salt last.

Steve laughed so hard Bucky thought they’d have a reenactment of his first time story. Natasha smiled and kissed Steve’s cheek. “Mmm, delicious,” she announced. Her block joined their on top of the tower and Nat had barely taken her seat when Clint popped up to take his turn.

In typical Barton Disaster Fashion, Clint pulled one from the side, and the blocks swayed as the balance shifted. “Aw, futz, yes!” he exclaimed. “Dare: Give the player to your right a strip tease. Question,” he added, looking at Nat. “How naked do you want me?”

Sam grabbed a couple napkins for Steve. “I’m gonna need more alcohol, aren’t I?”

“I put another bottle in the fridge,” Nat answered. “Clint, surprise me.”

Clint beamed. “You just wait. Music?”

Natasha patted Clint’s cheek. “Go all out.”

Fumbling with his phone, Clint went over to Sam’s radio and plugged it in, scrolling through his music to find the song he wanted. A moment later, a pulsing back beat filled the room. He turned to Natasha and strolled toward her, hips swaying. Steve encircled Bucky’s waist with both arms as the highly interesting and questionable lyrics began. 

Clint stopped before Natasha and ran his hands down his chest before tugging at the hem of his shirt. He shifted the material enough to show a sliver of abs, rolling his hips, before sliding into Natasha’s lap. Standing up just as gracefully, he slipped behind her chair, running his fingers along her collarbones.

Buck had never been a devout person, but watching that strip tease felt like goddamn religious experience. All traces of his lovable disaster of a best bro vanished, replaced by smoldering fuck-me eyes and sex appeal. Beside him, Steve had gone slightly slack-jawed; even Sam stared, eyes wide as Barton pressed his heels into the floor and lifted his hips, thrusting upward before pushing himself into a full back bend and into a handstand, scissoring his legs apart. He flipped himself upright, somehow stripping off his shirt in the process. Buck thought he felt a crush coming on with.

Until Barton whipped said shirt into Bucky’s face.

“Thanks, bro,” Bucky grumbled, snatching it off and throwing it over his shoulder.

Clint winked at him and went back to dancing for Natasha. Her eyes traveled all over, but came right back to Clint’s. A slow grin spread across his face as he popped the button on his fly. Slowly, he pressed his hands onto the arms of her chair and leaned close, lifting his legs. Balanced on his palms, Clint toed off his shoes and socks.

And just to be a showoff, he lifted one hand and ran it through his hair.

Bucky felt Steve’s arms around him tighten, drawing Bucky into his lap. Bucky giggled as Steve’s teeth found his neck. 

Clint got back into Nat’s lap, rolling his hips, and then slowly leaned all the way back, his abs flexing beneath his skin as he drew his hand from his inner thigh up to his chest. His jeans slid further down, the black waistband of his underwear peeking out. 

He pulled himself back up, giving another thrust before pushing away from Natasha. He stretched his arms up, flexing his abs, moving to the beat of the music as he circled his hips. Bucky bit his lower lip as Barton’s jeans moved down his hips inch by painstaking inch. The fabric gave up its hold on Clint’s impressive thighs, and Clint neatly stepped away from the pile of fabric, now clad only in his black boxer briefs.

Bucky reached back to card his fingers through Steve’s hair. Holy fuck, this was incredible. Barton kept dancing, head tossed back, hands roaming over his chest and abs. His fingers breeched the elastic of his boxer, tugging them lower enough to reveal his Iliac furrow and the top of his exceptional ass.

Unfortunately, Sam snapped to his senses, waving a hand and sputtering. “Whoa, whoa, no nudity, holy shit man.”

Clint snapped his waistband, the song winding down, and pressed a soft kiss to Natasha’s lips. Nat grinned and patted his ass.

Steve turned to Bucky, releasing his death grip on Bucky’s waist. “Sweetheart, do we have any cash?”

“Wasn’t our lap dance, baby,” Bucky answered.

“I know, but I feel like after watching that performance, we should tip.” Steve’s earnestness nearly killed him.

Buck looked back at his best bro, expression serious as he handed Steve his wallet. “Do you remember that one time we propositioned you for a threesome, Clint?” 

“Offer still stands,” Steve added, slipping a $50 into the band of Clint’s boxer briefs. “How much coffee would it take to get you into bed?”

“And remember, we’re rich,” Buck said.

Clint turned to them, that devious smirk darkening his eyes as he straddled Bucky’s lap. He brushed his nose along Bucky’s cheekbone and whispered into his ear. “We’ll see how the night goes. You wanna makeout now, or wait until the game is over?”

“Minx,” Bucky answered.

Clint tossed his head back and laughed, returning to his own chair, draping himself over Natasha, and aiming twin finger guns at Sam. “You’re up, Wilson. Uh, Sam?”

Sam hadn’t stopped staring at Clint. Bucky flicked a piece of popcorn at him, nailing Sam in the forehead. He startled, blinking. “What?”

“Your turn, hot stuff,” Clint said. Natasha stroked his hair and nodded toward the tower.

Sam’s face flushed as he pulled a block out, and then the color deepened. “Aw, no, man. Dare: Play the rest of the game naked.”

Bucky burst into laughter. Natasha had probably written that one for Clint.

“Well, I didn’t get to finish my strip tease, so how about you join me in boxerland, bird bro?” Clint said, wiggling his hips.

“What’s the consequence if you don’t take the dare?” Sam asked.

“You’re seen as a boring, uptight killjoy,” Bucky said.

“And we never let you live it down,” Steve added.

“And we Photoshop pictures of your in your boxers anyway,” Clint said.

“You know,” Sam said, eyeing them, “sometimes I hate y’all.”

“No, you don’t,” Natasha shot back. “Now take it off.”

Sam sighed and pulled his shirt off over his head. Nat and Clint both cheered. Steve patted Sam’s shoulder. When Sam undid his belt and dropped his jeans, Bucky whistled, just because he felt obnoxious. 

Sam shot him a glare. Bucky shrugged.

“There. I can be fun,” Sam grumbled. “Your move, Steve.”

“How do ya want me?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. Sam sputtered.

Natasha threw a cracker at Steve’s head. “Off limits. We had a deal.”

Sam glanced between Steve and Nat. “Wait, what deal?”

Rolling his eyes in mock exasperation, Steve tapped another block out the tower and slid it free without answering. He blinked, frowning at the message. Bucky leaned over his shoulder to read the challenge and snorted.

“Go get ‘im, tiger.”

“Well?” Nat asked, smirking in amusement.

“Um, Dare: Describe what you’d do to the player across from you in bed. Spare no details.” Steve glanced up. At Clint. Oh sweet Never Have I Ever justice. A second round. Bucky could practically feel the heat radiating off Barton’s face. “Just me and Clint?”

“I star in all your fantasies, Stevie,” Bucky said. “Although at this point, is there really anything left to fantasize about?”

“Of course. I’m so gone on you, everything feels new and exciting,” he said, so earnest, Bucky’s heart gave a squeeze as he kissed Bucky’s cheek.

“Sap.”

Steve shrugged before casting his attention at the ceiling. “Okay, me and Clint. I’m gonna assume this is a casual thing, nothing serious. I guess for starters, I’d get him into bed, toss a couple pillows at him, and prop him up. Sitting in bed can be hell on the back, and I'm not a sadist. Well, unless you ask. But this is casual, right, so yeah—pillows, a couple light blankets. I’d slide in beside him all easy and relaxed. Put something on. Maybe Blade Runner. Order some pizza.”

Bucky arched a brow. “Real kinky there, Steve. That’s called a slumber party.”

“That’s called foreplay. Now shut up, I’m not finished. Well, Clint would probably hit me with a pillow if I said the movie was okay. We’ve seen it a couple times now, and well, it’s good, but it’s not great, so yeah, he’d hit me and I’d hit back. Wrestle a bit. Get him all good and worked up before I pinned his hands over his head and scraped my teeth down his neck.”

Clint’s eyes grew larger. Dirty Steve was Bucky’s favorite Steve.

“We keep some rope beside the bed, just in case, so I’d straddle him, reach for the rope and tie his hands to the bed frame. Sturdy knots. Not too tight, but not easily escapable. I’d run my hands up under his shirt, over those gorgeous shoulders, down his abs. And then I’d do it again with my tongue, nice and slow. And every time he’d squirm, I’d start over until I made it to his jeans.”

Bucky couldn’t decide what was better: Barton turning a new, undiscovered shade of red, or how fucking blasé Steve sounded describing bedroom kink. Both. Both were excellent.

“He’d be panting by then because let’s be real here, Clint couldn’t behave if his life depended on it, so he’d be real desperate, all hard and wanting. I’d lean in, pop the button, pull the zipper down with my teeth, but open the fabric enough to let up a little on the pressure. Then I’d start over, taking my time until he’s panting, wordless, begging me to let him come. And I would,” he added, shrugging. “Eventually.”

Clint had gotten so red, Natasha marveled, poking at him. “You okay there, Clint?”

“Fine. Just. Buck? Help?”

“Don’t look at me. I want him to take me home right and tie me to the bed. I love when my baby gets all dominating.”

Steve nuzzled his cheek, back to being all sweet. “Later. Sweetheart?”

Bucky snorted. “I don’t think I can top that,” he answered. “But you’re absolutely topping tonight.” He pulled a block from the base, and the tower shifted again. 

In general, embarrassing Bucky took some effort and creativity; he basically followed a clothing optional policy 90% of the time, and his foul mouth came second nature. The fact that his face was currently burning was goddamn impressive. He hung his head, turning slightly toward Natasha. “I fucking hate you right now.”

Natasha laughed. “Sorry, not sorry, James.”

“What’s it say, Buck?” Steve asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.  


Bucky sighed. Damn this game. “Truth: Share a kink your partner doesn’t know about.”

Beside him, Steve cackled. “What happens if he can’t answer? We’ve been fucking for a century. I don’t think Buck has any surprises left.”

Bucky looked up at him, still flushed.

“Uh, Buck?”

“Oh shit,” Sam muttered. “I ain’t got enough tequila for this.”

“Cover your delicate ears then, Wilson,” Bucky said, “or you better start chugging.”

Sam took a long swig from the bottle and motioned for Bucky to continue.

“Babydoll, you know I goddamn love it when you get all Dom Steve on me. I know I ain’t the best sub, but it’s fun when you get a little rough. Sometimes, though, I wanna . . .” Bucky shrugged.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “What, you wanna tie me up and smack me around?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s less a sex thing and more a Steve Rogers is an idiot thing,” Bucky said. It was Steve’s turn to shrug. That’s fair. “Doesn’t count toward my pain kink.”

Clint shifted his gaze between Steve and Buck. “Of course, you have a pain kink. Block said tell us something Steve doesn’t know.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Not that kinda pain kink. I don’t wanna hurt him. I,” he paused. Well, it wasn’t _exactly_ a secret… “I wanna tie him up, dom the hell outta him, and make Stevie call me Captain. And I wanna wear the outfit.”

Steve blushed from the tips of his ears to below his collar. Bucky would be willing to bet it was one of those full-body blushes he loved so much. Steve’s mouth rounded into an “oh” while Sam swallowed the rest of the tequila. Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. “Okay, well, we gotta get home now, bye.”

Bucky tilted his head, eyeing Sam. “At least I didn’t mention our public sex kink.” Sam whined, high and uncomfortable, and Bucky smirked. “Oops.”

“Leave him alone,” Steve said, batting his eyelashes. “Captain.”

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder, and Steve laughed, scooping Bucky into his arms.

“My turn,” Natasha announced, giving a small, dimpled smile. “Truth: Tell us about the most fun you’ve had in bed.” She laughed, deep and delighted. “I don't know if you boys can handle this story.”

“Well, it's gotta be better than my hasty deflowering,” Steve said, reaching for his drink. Buck slugged him in the pec. “What?”

Natasha kept smiling, settling back in her chair with a pastry. “There was this mission several years ago where they'd asked me to go undercover as a model. Typical fare: get in, get the intel, get out. Maybe a little shameless flirting, but the target didn't need to be taken out, so I figured it could at least be pleasant. I get to the shoot and someone hands me a thin black silk nightgown and this lacy bra and panty set.”

She shimmied her shoulders, sitting up straighter. “So I change into it, and everything fits perfectly. The next room has nothing but floor to ceiling open windows, gossamer curtains, and this giant, plush bed, crimson silk sheets on top and dozens of pillows. I follow the photographer’s directions, posing when he wants, letting him position me. Honestly, I’d been expecting a creep, but this guy was that artistic sort of handsome. Long fingers, sharp features, a gorgeous smile. Very attentive,” she added, giving Sam, Steve, and Buck a sideways glance.

“We’d been shooting about an hour when he decides we need to make a change. He walks over to me, toys with the curls they’d put in my hair, gives me one of those solicitous once-overs. And then he leaves the room. So I’m thinking maybe all this silk and gossamer is too much, maybe he wants to dirty things up, and sure enough, he comes back with this box. It’s a large crate, probably full of ropes. You see, the intel I was supposed to gather related to some pretty kinky photographs of the potentially blackmailing variety.”

Bucky reached for his drink. Clint sat forward, arms on his knees. Sam’s flush had gone from his cheeks down his neck.

“He tells me to close my eyes. I do. I assume he tips the box over because the weight on the bed shifts and suddenly I feel something soft brush my skin, over my hands, my legs. And then I felt something lick my neck.” Natasha giggled—not sultry, not devious, but straight up delighted. “Turns out the box was full of puppies. So here I was, in this fancy lingerie, covered in puppies.”

“Puppies?!” Clint hissed, eyes narrowed “Where was I?”

Natasha looked at him, a tiny wrinkle between her brows. “I invited you to the shoot. You said you wanted to stay in and watch Dog Cops.”

“I clearly didn’t have all the details!” he continued. “I just gave you the best lap dance of your life-”

“Budapest was better,” Natasha said.

Clint glared. “Was not. I can’t believe I just gave a fantastic strip tease to a liar. You withheld puppies from me, Nat. Puppies.” Clint crossed his arms and pouted.

“I have pictures,” she offered, wiggling her phone.

He sat up a bit, eyeing the phone. “You do?”

“I do.”

Clint hesitated. “Fine. Pics, or didn’t happen.”

Still smiling, Natasha scrolled through her phone before holding it out for Clint. He snatched it away, and immediately his expression softened. “Aw, lookit the little sheltie. And the corgi. And the fancy French mop dog.” He offered Natasha back her phone, but she waved for him to pass it to Sam.

“Three hours, puppies, rolling around on a big comfy bed. Best day ever,” she concluded, setting her block on the top.

Clint frowned at the tower. “Can’t top that.” He tapped one out of the middle. Bucky watched as Clint’s eyes went wide as he read it again. “Dare: Sit in the lap of the player across from you until your next turn,” he squeaked excitedly.

He moved so quick, Bucky barely had a moment to register the motion before Clint seated himself in Steve’s lap, legs demurely cross, arms around Steve’s neck, stroking Steve’s beard with his free hand. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve flushed. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Clint purred, nuzzling Steve’s cheek. “We’re gonna be here a good long time. Might as well enjoy it.”

Blowing out a breath, Sam studied the Jenga tower, considering which block to move. The whole structure had become unstable, but he tapped out a piece and freed it without the whole thing collapsing. After a beat, he turned on Nat. 

“Natasha, I know this game did not come with this block,” Sam said, leveling a glare at her. “Dare: leave Stark a sexy voicemail. What’s sexy to a billionaire genius dumbass jerk?”

“Don’t let him know you called him a genius,” Steve said, grunting as Clint shifted.

“You okay there, pal?” Buck asked, smirking.

“I got 200 pounds of archer in my lap. I’m peachy.”

Clint giggled. Bucky patted Steve’s knee.

“Hello, still in crisis here. What am I supposed to say to him?” Sam complained.

Buck shrugged. “Read him an article about quantum mechanics? Tell him you’ve got my left arm in a display case for him?”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Read him an article about quantum mechanics _that he wrote_.”

Sam pulled out his phone, typing something into the search.

Buck rolled his eyes. “He’s just like Howard. Biggest turn on is himself.”

“At least he doesn’t have a self-portrait in every room.”

“Tony’s dad did what now?” Sam asked. “You’re kidding.”

“You’ve met Tony,” Buck and Steve said simultaneously.

Sam shook his head. “I got questions I know I don’t want answered.”

Beside him, Clint continued pawing at Steve, and Steve turned to Buck with a disparaging look. Bucky pressed his hand to Steve’s cheek. On the other side of the table, Sam stopped scrolling.

“Okay, I think I got one,” he said. Sam paused, a half-grin pulling at his mouth. “I gotta do this on speakerphone, don’t I?”

“Absolutely,” they all chimed.

Balancing the phone in his palm, Sam dialed Tony’s number. Buck expected something stupid and obnoxious—like Metallica instead of the average dial tone—but the line connected almost immediately, a pleasant, very British voice sounding from the speaker.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Wilson. How can I assist you?”

Sam blinked. “Uh, hey JARVIS. I was hoping to leave Tony a voicemail.”

“I’d be happy to pass along your message. Sir is occupied, but if it’s urgent, I can attempt to patch you through.”

“No, no,” Sam said quickly. “That’s alright, man, thanks. Is there like… a mailbox you can send me to, or . . .?”

“Not as such, no. I can temporarily disengage if your message contains sensitive material.”

“It’s not… look, I don’t wanna make this awkward, so I’m just gonna do this and we can all carry on with our night. It’s not sensitive, just weird.”

Bucky would swear up and down that the AI sounded amused. “I expect little else from Sir’s friends, Lieutenant. Whenever you please.”

Taking in a breath, Sam launched into reading the article, downright making up words a time or two, and the four of them tried to keep from giggling for a full five minutes. It didn’t work, but Sam wrapped up the voicemail with poise, thanking JARVIS for taking the message.

“Of course. I’m sure Sir will be pleased to once again hear of his accomplishments.” Oh yeah, definitely amused.

“Hey, JARVIS,” Bucky said, regretting a little that he’d never gotten a proper introduction to the AI.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Can you do me a solid? Next time Stark checks his messages, don’t say a word, just play ‘Careless Whisper.’ On repeat.”

“Would you like the original by George Michael or one of the various covers? And for how long?”

Buck couldn’t help but grin. “The original will do, and keep it going as long as you’d like. I appreciate it, JARVIS.”

“This was my dare, not yours,” Sam interjected.

He shrugged. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, man.”

“Anything else? I take it I’m to deliver these messages anonymously.”

“You got it. Nothing else, JARVIS. Thanks.”

“Any time. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and Lieutenant, if I may, I’d recommend either a variety of alcohol to aid in these ventures, or perhaps cocktails and other mixes beverages.”

Sam chuckled. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Keeping company with Agents Barton and Romanov, in addition to Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes has it challenges, especially in a gaming capacity. To phrase it politely, they’ll all drink you under the table.”

Bucky saluted Sam with the bottle of EverClear and tossed it back. Sam disconnected, fumbled his phone after remembering he didn’t have back pockets, and tossed it onto the couch. Dare complete, Sam set his block on the top of the tower.

The tremor started somewhere in the middle. Bucky watched the slow-motion sway, the breathless moment of sheer will forcing the tower to stay solid, and the inevitable collapse, for what felt like an hour before the spell broke. Blocks clattered across the table and floor, spiraling everywhere. A collective groan sounded from his friends. 

Sam’s mouth twisted in disappointment. “Well that sucks.”

Nat popped up and kicked one of the blocks toward him. “Loser resets the tower and goes first for round two.”

The block fell out of Sam’s hand. “Round two?”

“Yup.”

He cast a glance at the dwindling liquor selection. “How many rounds we gonna play?”

Natasha just smiled, cheeks dimpling.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that is, in fact, JARVIS because I erased AoU and I'm not a fan of FRIDAY, and it's my verse and I said so.
> 
> I've been sitting on this one FOR MONTHS and I'm so excited about it being out there; I hope you're exicted, too. These are some of my favorite fics to write. And if you're wondering, Barton's stripping to CLOSER by Nine Inch Nails.
> 
> \----
> 
> Follow me [on Tumblr!](http://lizzieharker.tumblr.com/)  
> Does anyone USE Tumblr? I feel like I'm late to the party...


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